Comfort and Love
by Alais Kingsleigh
Summary: Grief causes even the strongest to break down and cry. Hermione had just lost the people she loves most. Hong Kong offers her an escape from her grief but can it give her more?


A/N:Ho Chi-Mo is a character from Fallen Angels, the only thing I took from the movie is his character and his settings.

* * *

For someone seemingly as safe and as predictable as Hermione, tracking down criminals, both magical or not, seems almost out of character for dull almost mundane Hermione Granger. But life threw her a curve ball. First, it was the second wizardry war, which left her both physical and emotional scars. Then it was her closest friends' deaths. Harry and Ron were the ones meant to be aurors, they were the ones meant to have adventures, go on seedy places in pursuit of evil and claim fame and glory for it.

But they died young. They died in the blaze of glory that is meant for heroes while Hermione, who at the time was a ministry junior official, lives. Despite her brief claim to fame, the bounty for the head of those death eaters she's defeated would ensure a downright luxurious lifestyle for her and even up to her grandchildren even if she'd decided never to work. Harry's properties also went to her, seeing that he feels horrible for the loss of Hermione's family, even if her parents are still alive. So she did the only logical thing she could think of, she pursued a life as an auror whose main trade is bounty hunting. But sometimes, the grief gets to her. First, there was her parents distrust of her after she'd restore their memories. Then, there's her loss of both Harry and Ron. Even though the Weasleys had semi-adopted her, she still cannot impose on them and she knew that she is not one of them. Thus, right now, she stood in the dirty midst of Hong Kong, crying her heart out.

This helplessness, this agony and even this vulnerability is unlike her. She is after all, the brave Hermione, who had already put away a good number of criminals. She is supposed to be fearless, calculating and unemotional. But here she is, despondent, alone in a strange place, waiting for an informant who might never arrive and hoping against all hope that she still has people to come home to. Wanting company, a sense of comfort and perhaps in just a moment of insanity, she grabbed a scruffy looking guy who was trying to give her some handmade fliers and hugged him, sobbing on his shoulder.

The whole scenario looked something out of some crazy art work; Hermione, in a dark coat, hugging a guy wearing baggy clothing. He patted her head and back awkwardly, watching her as if the world has suddenly gone crazy or perhaps he or she had. After some time, she thanked the man, fixed herself and went on her way to meet up with her informant.

* * *

She had been too late, far too late to save any of the victims and Hermione was asking herself how anyone can be that inhuman. She called upon the local ministry to clean up this mess and she distinctly heard someone vomit behind her as she explained what happened to their group's supervisor. The slave trade operates by abducting muggles, as pets, for entertainment or sometimes even for slavery. But it seems as if it is in their orders to kill their captives if anyone, say someone like Hermione, gets too close.

She blames herself for it. While she took down two and incapacitated three wizards on her way to the warehouse. There had been two inside and they had not been gentle in their manner of "disposal". The bodies were not killed with the killing curse, seeing that the unforgiveable curse enables the law enforcement to track down to them, but hacked at the muggles away using their wands. The curse they used was akin to being hacked down by a chain saw. She had been able to kill one down and managed to capture the other for the local law enforcement officers to apprehend, but she couldn't bear look at the bodies, seeing it, seeing them as her own personal failure.

She apparated, started walking aimlessly before turning into an alley. She started crying just beside a vegetable stand. Before she knew it, she grabbed the vendor, who had been wordlessly forcing a middle aged woman to buy the vegetables. Before he could do anything, she grabbed him and cried into his shoulder with his unwilling customer rushing off in relief. She cried for a while, he stood there, unable to do anything but comfort her awkwardly. He realized that he liked the smell of her shampoo as he buried his face into his hair as he hugged her. Hermione would later on look at him and realized that he was the same man she hugged before. She thanked him before walking away.

* * *

It had been a couple of days since her momentary episodes of insanity and Hermione is back to that dark place yet again. Her target had been a man who dearly loves his wife and children, a middle class pureblood, not too popular with his fellow wizards in the local scene but is still one of the gentlest loving fathers she'd ever observed. Where Arthur Weasley shows his children distracted attention for his tiredness at work or her father shows an almost absent-minded attention to her "successes" in life, this man gives his family his all. Too bad he is a slave trader, abducting muggles for the entertainment or sick purposes of this ring she's trying to put down. After she got her information, she had to put him down. It was quite easy to hunt him down; she is a skilled dueler, superior to him in both physical and magical ways. But it was not easy to kill him. See, she was still Hermione, she researched everything on him, she even knew which schools his children attended. She saw him kiss his children good bye just that very morning and she had to kill him late the evening.

She misses her father. She misses his comfort, she misses his aftershave smell when she pecks his cheek, she misses his strawberry waffles and most of all, she misses his love. A love she lost because she took their memories away, no matter how briefly it was and even if she did it to protect them, in their eyes, she betrayed their trust. She used her magic on them.

She can never have them back. She can never go back to her home. She tried to contain her grief. She tried to stop crying; for her loss and for the children whose father she'd just killed and for the monster she often saw herself to be nowadays. She cried for Ron whose father still mourns for him and Fred, his children who will never get old. She cries for Harry who lived a life devoid of love and affection and yet still saw the positive side to things. Lastly, she cries for herself, seeing that no one would even care if she ended up dead. Many sees her job as a suicide wish anyway. She grabbed a guy who was trying to sell her some trinkets and cried on his shoulder. He sighed and started tapping her back and shoulder and hugged her back.

She looked up. It was the same guy from last two times time. She grabbed him and decided to go for some ice cream instead of just wallowing in her grief. Her translation charm worked to tell him that she wants some ice cream. The guy nodded. But instead of going for a 24-hour convenience store, he opened, or should she say carjacked an ice cream truck open. Who was she to complain? Even if she works for law enforcement, her very work lies in the boundaries of legal and vigilante. To be fair, she figures, the Weasley twins and even Ron and Harry had managed similar heists to the Hogwarts Kitchen, trying to steal some desserts for their midnight rendezvous. She laughed in memory and proceeded to take a piece of napkin and wipe it on the guy's face, seeing that he has a speck of ice cream on it. He smiled.

* * *

She introduced herself. "I'm Hermione Granger." It was then that she realized that the man she had been accosting for comfort is mute. She apologized. "I've just had a rough few months." He nodded in understanding. Instead of expounding on her misery, she decided that she would rather eat.

Hermione had her companion spell out his name, which turned out to be Ho Chi-Mo. She didn't talk much with him, only asking him what he wants to it. Just as they were enjoying their orders of dimsum, the whole restaurant went berserk as the people in it started fighting over some guy called Blondie or was it a girl, Hermione wasn't really sure how it all started but she sure didn't want to be caught in it. Even as Ho Chi-Mo started getting into it, she dragged him out.

They landed in a small tea shop nearby, sitting on bar stools right beside each other. He started smelling her hair, like he had already done twice before. She let him, in fact, she even leant towards him. He nuzzled against her just like a cat. Sometime later, she found herself leading him to her trailer, magically enhanced in both space and speed. Needless to say, it is under the fidelius charm, which makes bringing home a visibly unstable and obviously criminal man home, insane. He started cooking for her and it was the best fried rice she'd ever had.

"I would like to offer you a job." Hermione found herself saying. She tried to tell herself it was insane and that she's taking advantage of a disabled man who probably didn't experience much comfort or affection. But like him, she was starved for a sense of belonging. "You probably already have a job." Hermione knew he didn't, it didn't take much of a genius to know he's opening shops and doing "business" outside of business hours. "But I can pay you better and give you better hours, too." Hermione found herself saying. The man smiled and nodded. "No smoking though, if you want to smoke go do it outside on the veranda." The man looked at her quizzically before she escorted him to what appears to be a veranda.

Hermione led her new "employee" and toured him around her "trailer". Ho Chi-Mo looked on in surprise as he realized that the inside looks much bigger than the outside, seeing as there are two guest rooms (Hermione let him choose which one he wants), a sizeable library, a receiving room, an entertainment room, a full sized kitchen, two bathrooms and a master suite bedroom with its own bathroom. On the second floor was a laboratory, a bigger library than the one downstairs and what appears to be a gym. "You don't need to clean, don't worry about it, I have someone come in to do the cleaning once a week. I just need you to cook and if you're up to it, do a bit of laundry. You also drive this thing, don't worry about parking. I have it covered. I'll pay you UK rate." Hermione explained to him rushing through the points in her contract instead showing him the enticing she already drew up as she had been planning on hiring someone from the UK. Ho Chi-Mo signed, excited to be with her, he didn't know that the contract renders him incapable of revealing her secrets to others and making him unable to betray her, her interests or to steal from her. Not that he knew any of that. He rushed home to get his things, trying to explain to his father who thought he was imagining the whole thing.

Hermione did not bother to assure Ho Chi-Mo's father, seeing that she was busy researching her latest blunder. Through her contacts with the local police, she found out that she was spot on with her guess on what the man does for a living, opening shops at midnight, selling their wares, sometimes to even unwilling "customers" and if failing at that resorting to physical threat or harm. The reason why he's still doing it is, he just escaped out of prison. Yet, here she is employing him as her house help. She can almost feel Harry shaking her and Ron calling her all sorts of names.

* * *

Strangely, it went smoothly, he was fastidious at his work, didn't smoke inside the house and cooked delicious meals. He prepared menus for her and asked for her opinion about it, but other than stating she didn't eat animal entrails or extremities except for chicken wings, she didn't bother with it. She didn't need to as he cooked delicious Chinese dishes. She knows she should be bothered by the fact that the man smells her used underwear before washing them but her new found insanity or insensitivity, whichever was it, made her uncaring.

She leaves him a weekly budget for the groceries and other necessities. He always returns the surplus with an accounting she had not thought him capable of. He would also supervise the weekly cleaning of Hermione's regular cleaning girl from England (he didn't know that), without being told to, much to the maid's chagrin. Hermione had to appease her and said that Ho Chi-Mo is just special.

She should feel flattered or horrified or downright disgusted with his weird way of showing affection, but she just felt numb. It's not as if he's doing anything more than to smell her hair when she passes him by. He sometimes sits too closely or stands too closely, completely ignoring any sense of personal space. But in her thirst for human interaction she'd let him be. There were even times when she sought his comfort, after such grueling stake outs or work, she would just come home and hug him, letting him smell her hair and rub her back.

Despite her tears, she was still the same strong girl from before, the same Hermione whom Harry and even Ron looked up to for decisions. But she's no Super Girl. Harry had been the closest she has to a brother. Ron had been her first boyfriend. She had barely even felt what it was like to have a boyfriend as her relationship with Ron was only a month old when he passed away.

One night though, things got too much, the memory of pain, sorrow and agony of war coupled with the futile early deaths of her first real friends overwhelmed her. She downed too much firewhiskey and just cried on the couch. Before she knew it, he came to sit beside her and held her. He sat her on his lap and started kissing her hair. He couldn't talk, but he could express that he wanted to be there for her, so he slowly and gently lifted her face up and kissed her. He'd been afraid she'd reject him, but Hermione let him be, after a while he deepened their kiss, gently licking her lips before slipping it to explore her mouth. There wasn't anything more, just someone giving comfort. At least, that was what it was for Hermione.

Those kisses became more frequent. But Hermione never instigates them; she just accepts them, as she does everything he gives her. There were no words of love, at least not from Hermione's side, but any blind person can see that the same does not go for Ho Chi-Mo. When Hermione told him she didn't like the taste of cigarettes when they kiss, he decided to stop smoking but took to chewing mint gums to alleviate the nicotine withdrawal he was feeling.

* * *

Hermione's mission was drawing to a close, seeing that she did not trust even the local aurors with everything she knew, the operation had been a success. If she cared enough, she would have probably tried to see who was in their payroll. But she just didn't care. She went after the big boss of the operation and killed him, as she was sanctioned by the International Wizengamot to do. There would probably be other magical slave trades that would take advantage of non-magicals, but for now, Hermione managed to put an end to this one.

It took almost a year and half of work to do this, longer time than she'd ever invested on any case. But seeing the damage it had done, to both the families of the victims and victims themselves, she dedicated what was left of her now almost emotionless being.

As she went home to her trailer, she thought about Ho Chi-Mo. He was nearing the end of his contract with her as the year is almost up. It wouldn't be fair to drag him along, as much as she wants to, seeing that he has a father who lives here. But she felt a strange empty feeling at coming home once more to anlonely trailer. As she walked inside her home, she thoughtfully remembered his kisses. He didn't do anything inappropriate, they were just kisses and somehow he seems so happy. Is he really happy? What does he want? She then found it strange that he wasn't there to welcome her. She then looked at her corkboard and read that he had to take his father to the hospital.

* * *

She arrived sometime after his father died. Chi-Mo was uncharacteristically deflated. She sat close to him and held his hand. He continued holding her hand as he arranged for his father's body to be processed and the paper works for his cremation. It felt strange, being the one who gives him comfort when it usually goes the other way round. She would lead him home later; once he got home, he watched his home videos of his father, some embarrassing but most, as far as Hermione's inexperienced eyes can tell, reflects the man his father really is. She was about to let him watch those videos in solitude but he stopped her, and sat her on his lap, facing him. He kissed her deeply. By now, she was experienced enough to know how to kiss him back and she had, giving him the interaction he needed.

His hands started to move up, running his hands underneath her blouse, she gasped at the new sensation but did not protest otherwise. He watched her reaction, willing to withdraw the moment she seemed reluctant. One hand held her waist while the other cupped her breast underneath her bra. He continued kissing her. But that was as far as they went, they spent the rest of the evening trying to give each other comfort in the face of death. Chi-Mo fell asleep, holding on to Hermione as if he held on to a lifeline.

The next day would be the first time he'd ever taste Hermione's cooking. She cooked him some eggs, bacons and some pancakes. Upon looking at the pancakes' misshapen burnt form, Chi-Mo gave Hermione a goofy look, ate every bit with gusto but inwardly resolved to do all the cooking from then on.

* * *

She eventually told him that she is a witch and that it is her job to catch bad people. He winced at that, she smiled. "No, not people who opens up shops at midnight to sell items." She said. "I go after killers, those who hurt people just because they don't have magic or were born to parents without magic; like you and me." Hermione explained. Chi-Mo cracked his knuckles and looked menacingly. Hermione had to smile and shake her head. "I usually just track them down." She lied, "I usually allow the local enforcement to deal with them." She finished smoothly. "What I'm trying to say is, I'm being re-assigned to a new case since this one had been solved and they're sending me to Italy." Chi-Mo stiffened at that. "Will you come with me? If you don't want to, it's okay. I'll arrange for…" Chi-Mo held Hermione's face in his hands and smiled one of his goofy large grins. He nodded and she returned his smile.

Chi-Mo already knew that Hermione is not your usual girl. First, there was the maid who appears from the second floor fireplace every weekend to clean her house. Then, there's her laboratory which contains the oddest things imaginable, he's not allowed to touch any of it as it might cause him a life threatening accident. If all of that fails to convince a person, there's her mobile home, an exterior the size of a minivan and the maneuverability of one, too. But if you don't sit at the driver's seat and if you enter its premises you'd be surprised with a three bedroom home with an entertainment room, two libraries, a laboratory, a full sized chef's kitchen, a sort of ballroom or gym as Hermione uses it, two terraces and a veranda. He'd always known that this was unusual but it didn't scare him off as he knew right off that he'd do anything to follow her wherever she may go.

* * *

She procured a passport for him and asked him if he could stay out of trouble, as she'd just had his criminal records cleared, while they prepare for their trip abroad. He sorted through his father's things and except for some old pictures and the video tapes he gave his father, he didn't bring any of his things with him. The first thing he brought home had been his dad's urn. Hermione also arranged for his motorcycle to have a place in their home. It's parking an easy roll in and roll out through a new compartment that seemingly came out of nowhere.

After Hermione placed her trailer inside her purse, he'd asked if she couldn't just magic them to Italy, but she said she needs for him to travel through the normal means first at least for the first few countries so he can establish his identity. He didn't bother asking her about this as he'd been too engrossed with the experience of being aboard a plane. It had been his first time to ever use this means of travel. He was also amazed by the service in the business class, he felt debonair and sophisticated. As he observed the other passengers, he realized that the experience will soon be less exciting. Hermione, on the other hand, had not observed any of it seeing that she is deeply asleep. He kissed her, aware that there were other passengers who noted it. They probably thought that the two were a couple. Sometimes, when he closes his eyes, he really feels as if they really were.

* * *

He had not wanted to go to a specialist, but Hermione was curious as to what caused his being mute. She just didn't understand how an expired pineapple can do that. It turns out that both of them were at least partially right, apparently, he suffered from food poisoning, which the doctor guessed gave him a high fever. This in turn caused his temporary muteness. But, he would later on recover from this, there is nothing wrong with him physiologically. He is suffering through selective mutism, being mute just because he still thought he was. The doctor also surmised that since he had not practiced speaking for a long time, he may need speech therapy. After months of therapy, he would later be able to speak, not only his native tongue but English as well. He would still remain mostly quiet due to his lack of confidence in his speech.

Hermione would later brandish a leaflet for a cooking school in Italy. It was only a six month course and Hermione figured they'll be here for that time, so he enrolled there, paying for his tuition fee through his own salary since he didn't want Hermione to spend so much on him as he feels she already did. It's not only that he likes to cook. What really motivated him had been Hermione's genuine smile of pleasure at tasting delicious new dishes. He wanted to see her smile more often. So he studied hard, learning how to cook simple to complicated Italian dishes which Hermione ate happily.

He would also do the same while they landed in France, Greece and even when Hermione came home to England.

* * *

The news of her parents' death brought Hermione home. Despite their distrust and even downright avoidance of their daughter, being their only child, their properties still goes to her. As Hermione spoke with the solicitor, Chi-Mo wandered around her parents' home. He saw pictures of Hermione when she was young, awards, medals and even some memorabilia. But these were all from a time when Hermione was younger, they didn't seem to have anything on her from her later teens. He also noted that Hermione didn't talk about her parents much. 'Perhaps, they have drifted apart?' He thought to himself.

He would later stand besides Hermione as her parents were lowered onto the ground. She had not contacted any of her friends as she wanted this to be solemn and dignified. She also didn't want people offering her condolences without understanding how she feels. Hermione feels regret, not for her actions of protecting her parents but in not reconciling with them when she still has a chance. Now, a vehicular accident had claimed their lives before she could even say she loves them again.

She clung on to Chi-Mo, even as they went home to their trailer, parked in the garage of her parents' home. Quite uncharacteristic for her she sought him out, kissed him and for the first time, though not unexpectedly, they made love. Hermione clung on to him for the rest of the night.

* * *

There were many things they did not talk about. Chi-Mo didn't ask Hermione where she went when she wore a nice black dress he would later on associate with this day of the year, he would soon see that even if they do travel often, they would find themselves back in England just before this time of the year. He did not ask why she did not do this for her parents. Hermione did not ask what the look he gave her meant, never asking more than what he is willing to give but selfishly keeps all of her burdens to her chest.

Ho Chi-Mo would later on become Christopher Ho, well dressed, sophisticated metropolitan man. Upon Hermione's decision to settle down in England some years later, he would go on to become a renowned chef in London. He would propose to Hermione and marry her, becoming parents to twin boys Hermione named Harry and Ron. She would settle down as an officer for the British Ministry of Magic when her boss, Kingsley Shacklebolt became Minister for Magic. As years went by, there were still things they never talked about. Even as Chi-Mo would wake at night and kiss Hermione, telling her he loves her and their sons, he couldn't bring himself to do it while she is awake. She never told him or her sons that she loves them. At least, she did not say it out loud. He supposed, it's better than always saying she loves them yet her actions would not reflect her words.

They still didn't talk about where, dressed up nicely, Hermione and their sons would go once a year. They didn't talk about Hermione's nightmares nor did they talk about the etching on her arm, now pale and light, but still visibly read, "mudblood".

They didn't talk about the seven books Hermione would later write, the earlier ones filled with child-like wonders, of how it explained the numerous scars on Hermione's body, and the happy ending she gave Harry, Ron and herself. They didn't talk about Chi-Mo disappearing after he read the epilogue of the last book and coming home drunk, sleeping on the couch crying. Hermione would send their sons off to the Weasleys, help him clean up but did not say a single word of explanation nor apology. She did not rebuke him but her sad eyes made him regret his actions.

He would later be tempted to stray. The woman, one of the patrons of the restaurants he worked in, often told him that she is in love with him. But despite being younger than his wife and more open with her affections, Chi-Mo realized he couldn't cheat on Hermione. It didn't matter that she probably didn't love him. What does matter is that she is a good wife and a good mother. She saw good in him even when nobody did. She picked him up and helped him be the man he is today.

At the age of 11, their sons first rode the Hogwarts Express. Just as the train fell out of sight, Hermione turned to look at him, with tears in her eyes and told him, finally, that she loves him and thanked him for always being there for the boys and her. He finally told her that he loves her too and had always loved her and that he will never stop being there for her and their sons. They spent the rest of the day together, once more alone as they were before.


End file.
